


No Hands

by supersoakerx



Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Daddy Dom!Charlie Barber, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Bondage, Masturbation, Shoe Riding, just a tiny bit, shoe licking, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:15:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersoakerx/pseuds/supersoakerx
Summary: You are running late to meet Charlie for dinner, and also you disobey him.
Relationships: Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	No Hands

You get a message as soon as you unlock your front door and step one foot inside. Your phone reads:

Charlie Barber  
5.07pm  
“Wear the pink. Dinner at 7.”

Oh, of course it was from him. From him, the very moment you walk in the door. He knew the minute you left for work, the minute you were on a break and the minute you got home. He always knew. He had the times down exactly.

His message sent a little thrill through you, knowing what might await you tonight. But, he also didn’t give you a lot of time to prepare.

You start to get ready for him immediately. You wash with one of the soaps he picked for you. You dab on one of the perfumes he picked for you. You do your hair the way he likes it. You put on the pretty pink lacy lingerie set per his request. You take a guess, and decide on a glossy pink lip. For sure, he’d like it. He liked seeing your lipstick smeared on his skin.

At 6.45pm you rush to put on your coat—with nothing more than your lingerie underneath—and your nude pumps. You didn’t have a whole lot of time. You grab your bag and head out, already in a state of mild panic. This time of night, it could take 20 minutes to get to Charlie’s, and you knew you’d be in trouble if you were even one minute late.

********

Charlie watched the clock tick over from 6.59 to 7.00. He listened for your knock at his door. At 7.01, having heard no such sound, he set his jaw. You hadn’t even sent him a text to say you were running late. Charlie sighed, running the tip of his finger around the rim of his wine glass. He was not happy.

********

You’re in such a hurry you stumble out of the cab, almost meeting the pavement. You clutch your bag to your chest, and your other hand holds onto your phone for dear life.

7.02, it reads, as your heels click-clack their way to Charlie. 7.02. _Shit_ , you think to yourself. _I’m late._

********

He hears your knock, your little tap-tap-tap, and he swallows his sip of wine and sets his glass down. He meanders his way to his front door, in no rush. He rolls up his sleeves, and opens the door.

You stand before him all in a tizzy. You’re breathing hard, from racing to get to him, but you’re trying to control it. Your chest is heaving and your nostrils are flaring with the effort. Your hair is a little messy. The tips of your ears, your cheeks, the tip of your nose and your lips are all flushed pink. You’re looking up at him with a warm little smile. Charlie absorbs every detail. It reminds him of how you look when you-

 _No. Stop it, Charlie_ , he thinks. So instead, he straightens his posture, crosses his arms, and tilts his head to the side. His eyes squint for just a moment, before he says, “What do you say?”

Your smile drops instantly. What do you say? What are you meant to say? It could be any number of things, but you settle on the safest bet.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“For what?” he cuts you off before you even finish saying the last word. He can hear your heart beat in your voice. “Try again, kitten.” He flexes his arms where they’re crossed, squares his shoulders.

You swallow and glance down at the ground, collecting yourself. You look back up into his face, and see one of his eyebrows cocked at you, his mouth pulled into just the hint of a pout. Expectant. Annoyed.

You both knew that it made you wet.

“I-” you start, and he leans his head in slightly, lips parting. He was waiting: you’d want to make this good.

You huffed a breath through your nose, and a moment later all your words came tumbling out. “I’m sorry I made you wait for me after you prepared a-”, you took a deep inhale, making a show of smelling the aroma wafting from inside, “delicious dinner for me, Daddy.”

Charlie straightens at this, closes his mouth, and tilts his chin down at you. He gives you a mocking little smile that he barely tries to hide.

When you don’t say anything more, he raises his eyebrows at you.

“I really didn’t mean to keep you waiting, Daddy, I promise. I’m sorry,” you look up into his condescending face with big, pleading, honest eyes.

Charlie softens his face. He wasn’t really that mad, but he was disappointed that you didn’t follow his instruction, didn’t seem to care enough to make it there on time. But you looked so good, good enough to eat, with your shiny pink lips, and he knew what you had on under your coat. What you _should_ have on under your coat.

Or rather, what you didn’t have on.

Charlie reaches his arm out and grasps your jaw in his hand. Not hard, just holding onto your face. Then, he pulls you toward him.

You take two steps before he stops pulling you, and you’re almost pressed up against him now. He leans down to you a little. “That was a good apology, kitten,” he murmurs, his hot breath fanning out over your face, “are you going to disappoint me again tonight?”

“No, Daddy.” You’re almost whispering, transfixed as you gaze into the depths of his eyes.

“Good. Then you can give Daddy a kiss hello.”

You lick your lips and pounce on him, leaning up on your tiptoes in your heels. One of your hands grips his wrist, anchoring his palm to your face, the other grabs for his shoulder, clutching him to you. You press your lips to his, feeling their soft plushness, and let out a small whimper at the contact. Charlie hums at your little sound, and leans into you, deepening your kiss as you melt into him in his doorway. Charlie absolutely loves this. _Stop, damn it_ , he chides himself.

Charlie squeezes his fingers at your jaw, just once, and you release your lips from his and your hold on him, coming down from your tiptoes and settling back on your heels. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and takes a step back from you, gesturing for you to “come in, gorgeous.”

********

As always, Charlie prepared an amazing meal, and paired it with the perfect wine. You talked and shared and laughed together as you ate. Charlie always liked to start your nights together with good food and good conversation. He liked to take his time with you. With you, he didn’t feel like he had to rush and stuff his face and get it over with.

But still, he finished eating before you, and he watched you.

He watched you eat and drink and laugh. He watched your lipgloss disappear from your lips onto your glass and he wanted to kiss you. He watched you flick your hair over your shoulders and he wanted to smell you. He watched your cheeks flush and he wanted to slap you and watch a real red mark form there.

As you swallowed your last bite and set your fork down on your plate, his expression hardened. His eyes visibly darkened. He kept his mouth closed but he licked his front teeth.

The room settled into silence, and he let it, for a few moments, your eyes locked on each other. Then-

“Get me hard.”

You blinked, not believing what you heard. His deep voice said it so matter-of-fact, as if he’d just asked you to pass the salt. But Charlie didn’t ask for things. Charlie gave commands.

He rolls his eyes at your lack of response, scoots his chair back a fraction, and leans back on it. He spreads his legs, planting his feet on the ground with soft thuds, as he says, “well?”

You stutter nonsense, “b- here? w- how?”

“I don’t care how you do it, kitten,” he cuts you off, with a dirty lie no less, “but you’d best do as I say. Make Daddy hard, now.”

You swallow your nerves, your excitement, and slide your chair back. You get yourself to standing and walk the long way around the table to him. His eyes follow you, hungry. When you’re a few steps away from him, you pause, and begin to take off your coat. You stare into his eyes as you resume your slow stalk towards him. He shifts his seat to face you fully without taking his eyes off you, and when you’re standing between his knees, you drop your coat to the ground, revealing your pretty pink lacy lingerie.

Charlie takes a deep inhale at the sight of you, his eyes roaming your body, but says nothing. On the inside, he’s beyond pleased that you’ve done as he’s bid you, you look delectable, and he feels himself stirring. But he can’t make it that easy for you: he wills himself not to get too excited.

You sink to your knees between his spread legs, and bring your hands up to run along his strong and sturdy thighs.

“No hands.”

You blink at him again, eyes wide. One corner of his mouth pulls up into a smile. “No hands, kitten.”

“But you said-” you start to protest.

“I know what I said. I changed my mind.” His tongue darts out to lick at the corner of his mouth before he pulls it back in, just as quick.

You pout—you can’t school your features into neutral before he sees it, and in an instant he leans down to you and grips your jaw again, snarling.

“Oh, what? Little princess doesn’t want to work for it? Just wants Daddy to fuck her and make her cum and all she has to do is look pretty?” His eyes are searching yours.

“Nno, D-Daddy,” you stammer.

“That’s right,” he says it slowly, enunciates every sound, breathing over your face. “ _You_ said you weren’t going to disappoint me again tonight. Did you lie to me, kitten?”

“No Daddy!” your eyes go big and wide, fearing he might not let you touch him, fearing he might not touch you.

He lets go of your jaw and sits back in his chair again. “Prove it.”

You were holding your breath, you realise, and when Charlie leans back in his chair, seemingly ready for you to continue, you let out a deep and shaky breath. Your eyes glance between the centre of his spread legs and his face.

Charlie crosses his arms, sets his shoulders, and looks pointedly down at you, tilting his chin towards his chest the way he does, as if he were reviewing you on the stage. With his legs parted wide, it’s one of the most intimidating things you’ve seen him do. Very slowly, voice dripping with disdain, he says, “Do you think, I have _all_ night, to _wait_ for _you_?”

Immediately you shift yourself forward on your knees and place a hesitant, tentative kiss to his knee, looking up at him and asking, silently, with your eyes big and hopeful, ‘like this?’

“Pfff, please,” Charlie mutters. But you know he’s not asking or begging you. He’s derisive. He’s saying it like ‘what do you take me for? Do better than that.’

You begin to press your mouth over his pants, planting dry kisses up and along the top and inside of his sturdy thigh, careful not to-

“Don’t you ruin Daddy’s pants, kitten.”

Charlie knows there’s a very good chance that you _will_ ruin them before he’s done with you. He’s got things planned for you. But now that he’s said it, he can bend you over his knee for it later.

The thought, and your kisses, are making him swell. _Finally_ , he thinks, and fights not to roll his eyes into the back of his head from the feel of it.

You shift over to his other leg and look up into his face. His jaw is set but his eyes are alight. You start again at his knee, placing small kisses all over it, and say, “I won’t Daddy, I’ll be good,” and then work your way up and along his thigh, giving it the same treatment as the other. Your fingers are clutching at your own legs. It’s taking everything in you to keep your hands to yourself.

He huffs a laugh, “will you?” He takes a deep breath then, allowing himself to uncross his arms, allowing his cock to _really_ start filling up with his blood and his want. “I’ll decide that, kitten.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you murmur between kisses. You feel like you’ve covered every inch of his thighs now, and you lean back just a bit to get a good look between his legs. You see the outline of him, bulging through his pants, and you can’t stop your eyes lighting up and the smile you glance up at him with, on instinct.

Charlie quirks a brow at you, and says, “pleased with yourself?”

You smile wider at him, your tongue coming out to lick your bottom lip, before you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

Charlie surveys you for a minute. He loves your smile, he really does. He loves when you get cheeky with it. It makes him want to fuck your mouth. He takes a hand and runs his fingers through your soft hair, done so prettily for him, his fingertips sliding across your scalp, as he says, “Yeah, I think pretty princess thinks she’s done a good job.” His eyes glint, daring you to come back at him with something.

You nod your head just a little.

Suddenly Charlie’s fingers clench hard in your hair, he pulls and it tips your head back. He leans down to you, your faces a few inches apart now, and his eyes harden, going cold. His voice is pitched low and quiet when he breathes over your face, “I don’t know why, though. You’re not done yet, kitten.” He releases his grip on your hair, leans back in his chair again and huffs a sigh, “what else?” He sounds disinterested. He knows he’s a liar.

You know what Charlie is asking for now. You keep your eyes locked on his as you lean in, getting closer and closer to the hard bulge in his trousers. Your chest hits the seat of his chair, your shoulders butting up against the inside of his thighs. You look down and spy the head of his cock, flick your gaze back up to him, and lean your head so your mouth is hovering over his swollen head.

Charlie can feel your hot breath on his thick length, and it takes everything in him not to grab your hair and push your face into his groin. He _cannot_ lose control here.

You let one more breath fan over him, and decide not to test him anymore. You were pushing your luck as it is. You part your lips into an “o”, like you’re about to suck on a lollipop, and press your lips to the head of his cock, through his pants.

A corner of Charlie’s mouth tugs up into a little smile.

So you keep going.

You place small, dry kisses all along his length, glancing up at him every now and again. He’s looking down at you with a beautiful closed mouth smile, his eyes sparkling. When you close your eyes and nuzzle into his balls, he releases a small, quiet sigh. You barely hear it.

You trail more kisses down his length as it rests on his thigh, and place another kiss to the head of him, lingering this time. Even with the layers of fabric you could tell he was hard as a rock. You lean up, sitting back on your calves, and look up at him, the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Charlie sees you on your knees between his legs in the pretty pink lingerie he requested, his hard cock tenting his trousers, and the happy, expectant smile you’re trying to hide. He’s not having it. So he resets his features into a neutral expression and says-

“What _else_ , kitten?”

You’re a little confused, now. Surely, you’d done what he asked. His straining pants had to be proof of that. And with no hands, how were you going to palm him, get his belt off, or do _anything_ more to him?

You get an idea. You don’t know if he’s going to love it, or _hate_ it. But it’s all you’ve got, so you go with it.

You shift your legs out from under you and manoeuvre yourself into sitting on your backside with your knees bent, your heels resting on the floor. Then, you slowly slide your legs apart, and lean back on one hand, supporting yourself.

Charlie tilts his head to one side, and gives you a look somewhere between ‘do it’ and ‘don’t you fucking do it.’

You take your free hand and glide it over your body, starting from your neck, down over your breasts, down your stomach, and inside your lacy pink underwear.

His eyes flare as you let out a breathy sigh. Slipping your hands through your folds, you were as wet as you knew you would be, and you’re pretty sure Charlie can smell and hear the evidence of your arousal.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His features scrunch up a little as he says it, his hair shifts a little with the movement of his head. He was right, he knew exactly what you were going to do.

You tip your head back and let out another sigh, just for the show of it, your fingers all slicked up and teasing your clit. You bring your eyes back to his and say, “you didn’t say no hands for me, did you Daddy?”, practically breathing the last part.

Oh, he absolutely could not have this. He really fucking wanted it, but he could _not_ stand for this. “Dirty slut,” he says through clenched teeth, launching his arm out to you, “give me your hand, show me.”

You slip your hand out of your panties and hold it up to him.

“Christ I can smell you from here,” he says, feigning disgust, when really the scent of your slick drives him crazy. He grips your wrist and tugs it closer, pulling you up off the ground slightly, and you take the hint and tuck your legs back underneath you, kneeling again.

He leans down to your hand, takes a sniff. “Oh, kitten,” he takes another lungful of you, letting his chest expand with it, inwardly marvelling at how shiny your fingers are, then, “clean this up,” and he thrusts your hand back down to you, “dirty girl.”

You make an exaggerated show of licking each of your fingers with big, long, slow licks. Charlie’s cock is throbbing, he can’t take much more of this, so his hands fly to unbuckle his belt, unzip his fly, and shuck his trousers and boxers down, adjusting in his chair just enough to pull his cock free.

He loves how your eyes go wide the first time he reveals himself to you. It’s like you’re always amazed to see the size of him. His ego and his pride flare with it, constantly. You’re mid-lick and the sight of his thick flushed length stops you in your tracks and you breathe, “Oh, Daddy.”

Charlie lets his cock rest proudly against his clothed stomach. “Get over here, kitten,” he says, and you scramble to get closer to him, “yeah, lick up Daddy’s cock, give me that tongue, so fuckin’ skilled with it, apparently,” you lick a long line from his balls all the way up to his slit, then point your tongue and flick up the head of his cock. Charlie pulls his lips between his teeth to stop from groaning, but he can’t hold back the hum from the back of his throat when you lick him again, and again, and again.

“Little princess loves teasing Daddy, doesn’t she?” He says, and you smile up at him. He shifts himself forward on his chair, grips his cock in one hand and says, “bring those pretty lips here, kitten.”

You nestle up between his knees again and hover your mouth over the head of his cock, breathing on him. With his free hand, he runs his fingers through your hair, making you slowly blink your eyes at him. He cradles the back of your head in his hand and pulls you toward him.

His cock pushes past your lips and onto your tongue as Charlie moves you onto him, sighing. He’s buried as far as your soft palate, your lips grazing his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and he groans. He grips the hair at the back of your head and drags you off him, pulling your mouth over his cock. He licks his lips when he sees how shiny you made him.

“Now, I’ll give you one chance to make up for that performance on the floor.” Charlie takes both his hands and holds and turns your head so that his cock presses up against your cheek inside your mouth: he can see the outline of himself bulging at the side of your face. He tells you to “slap yourself, right there”, and his eyes flick to your cheek.

You’re not sure how to do this. No one’s ever had their cock in your mouth and told you to slap your own face. You bring your hand up and give what could pass as a hard tap to your cheek.

Charlie grunts a sharp laugh. “Silly slut. Like this, kitten.” Charlie lowers his hand down to your face, and gently rubs over your cheek. It’s so soft, it makes your eyes flutter. His fingers trace where his cock pokes through your cheek, and it sends tingles up his spine. Just as you close your eyes from his gentle caress, in an instant he moves his hand away and brings it back down in a quick and hard slap.

Your eyes fly open to see him shudder through a breath, his chest heaving.

“Again, kitten.” He says through a pant. He was readying you, giving you warning this time.

You feel the hot snap of his hand against your cheek again, and you flinch. Charlie murders a groan in his throat, feeling pleasure radiate through his groin at your little jump, your reddening skin and the vibrations he felt through his dick. He pulls you off him by your hair and releases his hold on you. “Now,” he grunts, “I said ‘no hands’ didn’t I?”

“You did, Daddy, yes.” You nod your head a few times. Part of you knew this was coming. Part of you wanted it. Needed it.

He nods once. “Get up, take your panties off.”

You hoist yourself up to standing and slide your lacy underwear down your hips and legs, stepping out of them and holding them in your palm.

“Give them here,” he says, and you plop them into his open, upturned palm. “Fucking Christ!” he curses, as the wet material hits his skin, “these are—you’ve soaked them through, kitten. What a waste.” You’re not sure if he means the expensive lingerie, or that he hasn’t made you slurp up your cum tonight. He doesn’t clarify it.

Charlie motions with his hand for you to get down on your knees again. “Hands behind your back.”

You sink to your knees and hold your hands behind you. Charlie leans over you and ties your wrists together with your wet panties, stretching the material and ruining them even more. “I would get my cuffs, but,” he grunts, “we’re not leaving the table until you make Daddy cum,” he sits back up, “and you’ll do it with your hands behind your back.”

You are completely unable to stop the little whine that leaves your mouth. Not only could you not touch him, but now you couldn’t even touch _yourself_.

“Jesus since you’re clearly so desperate for it,” Charlie says, sitting forward on his seat again and moving one of his feet in, eyeing your core and the position of the top of his shoe, trying to line them up, “you can rub your little clit on my shoe while you suck my cock.”

Your mouth falls open in shock, but you don’t know why. You should know better by now.

“Come on, little princess. Get up here and suck Daddy’s cock,” he motions downward with his hand, indicating his shoe, and his thick, hard cock. “See,” he says, noticing something and smirking, “Daddy even got you a little treat.”

Your gaze flicks down to his length and you spot a little pearl of cum sitting at the top of his swollen, purple-red cock head. His sense of humour was something else. Still, the sight made your mouth water.

“Now be a good fucking girl.” His voice cuts through you. “You know I won’t ask a third time.”

You absolutely did know, so you shuffled forward, which was hard with your wrists tied up in your own panties behind your back, and rested your core just above his shoe. You leaned up to try and get his cock in your mouth, but you couldn’t quite reach, and ended up looking like a dog trying to catch a treat in its mouth. Charlie ate it up. “Look at you, tongue hanging out and all, what a silly slut you are.” You closed your mouth then, self-conscious. You’d just wanted to please him, just wanted to do what he asked. Your mouth dropped into a little frown. “What, can’t reach, kitten?” Charlie’s voice was patronising.

You gaze up at him and he’s smiling down at you, enjoying this. He sees your frown and sighs. “Fine,” he gets up to standing, towering over you, “Daddy’s gotta do everything around here, doesn’t he?” He shoves his pants and boxers down to his knees, and settles one foot slightly in front of the other, inching it over so it lines up with where your soaked pussy is.

With both hands he grabs hold of your hair, on either side of your head just above your ears. “Up,” he says, and pulls you, and you lift from resting on your calves to being eye level with his cock.

Charlie adjusts his foot again, and when you gasp, signalling that your clit has made contact with the leather of his shoe, that Charlie’s got himself and you in the right position, he purrs out a “good girl,” and rams his cock into your open mouth.

A groan rips through him with the feel of it. He loves you like this, so pliant and small beneath him. He loves your wet, hot mouth and the softness of your tongue, the texture of your tastebuds on the underside of his cock. He bucks his hips into you, dragging his dick in and out of your mouth, and you struggle to keep your lips closed around the hard thickness of his flesh, especially without the use of your hands to steady yourself on him.

“Keep ‘em fucking closed, kitten,” Charlie pants. “You know what I like.” He bucks into you some more, and you moan around him from the way it makes your centre rock against his shoe. “Yeah, Daddy’s fucking your face isn’t he, fucking your pretty little face.” He throws his head back and groans, starts to move your head along his cock, in time with his thrusts into your mouth.

He was rocking your whole body with his movements now, and with them, your core ground against the tip of his shoe over and over again.

Charlie grips your hair harder when his cock hits up against your soft palate, and he looses another ragged groan. “Mmmfuck, open, open up for Daddy, kitten, take it.”

You try, you try so hard to open your throat to him, but at the angle and his pace and the-

“You know I can make you, I can make you take it.” He huffs out through pants, his hips not stopping as he fucks his cock into your mouth, trying to get into your throat.

You try again and you gag on him, tears welling up in your eyes. Charlie almost looks for this, almost waits for this moment. Seeing your eyes all shiny with tears makes him throb.

He pushes too far, again, intentionally this time, to make you gag on his cock a second time. He’s chanting at you, “take it, take it, take it”, with each push of his hips.

It feels like he’s cutting off your air, because he is, and he’s holding your hair tight and your hands are behind your back, tied and you can’t, you just can’t do anything more than the very thing he’s asked of you.

So you drop your jaw and try to time your breaths. He pushes past your muscle into your throat and an unholy groan rips through his chest.

But you’re struggling, struggling to breathe, keep your eyes open, and you gag again.

He fucking loves that sound, and he can’t stop the rambling once he starts.

“Choke, choke pretty princess, yeah cry for Daddy, go on, lemme,” he makes a shuddering groan, “uughh, lemme see those tears, I wanna lick em up, lick up all your little tears, kitten, let em out, cry for me, cry for Daddy, kitten.”

His words slice into you and you let go, you let go completely. You let your tears slip out of your eyes, you let your eyelids flutter, you let your eyes roll back into your head. You let him rock your clit on his shoe and drip your cum onto him. You let yourself drool and gag and be made a mess of.

Charlie thinks you’re the most gorgeous woman on the planet.

And he’s going to shoot his cum down your throat.

“Tell me you want Daddy’s cum, kitten. Tell me, tell me,” he’s panting now, about to lose his grip on reality.

You try to answer him, even with just a moan, and you choke and retch through it, your spit dribbling onto your chin and your chest and the floor.

Charlie takes it as a yes anyway. He knows what you mean, even when you talk with your mouth full, which he’s tried to teach you not to do.

“I know you want it, kitten, right in your throat, Daddy’s cum right in your little thro—FUUCK,” he’s almost shouting when he loses it, his hot and sticky cum leaving him in spurts, right from the very tip of his cock straight down your throat.

He stutters his hips as he rides out his orgasm in your mouth, holding you still with his grip on your hair. Every time you try to swallow down the bursts of his load, your throat opens and closes on his cock and more and more keeps dribbling out of him. He can’t stop coming, thanks to you.

It soon gets too much for him and he pulls out, all the way out of your throat and your mouth, he lets go of your hair and slumps back into his dining chair, trousers falling to around his shins now.

You swallow anything that’s left in your mouth and gasp for air immediately, and Charlie thinks it’s one of the most beautiful sounds you make. Right up there with the sounds of your moaning and your gagging.

He takes a few deep breaths, collecting himself.

One thing you really like about Charlie: just because he came, doesn’t mean he’s done with you. And he’ll be ready for another round soon enough. You know he wants more from you yet.

True to his word, he beckons you over to where he sits in his chair. You shuffle over to him, knees aching and muscles sore, especially in your neck and shoulders. He cradles the sides of your head in his hands, pulls you towards him, leans in, and licks and kisses at the tracks of tears on your face. “Good girl,” he murmurs into your skin as he presses his plush lips and silky tongue to your hot and sensitive skin, “good girl.”

He leans back from you, back into his chair, and assesses you and the mess you made. He sees you covered in your own drool, some splattered onto the floor. Little globs of it trail down between your breasts. Your hair is a mess, your lips puffy and red and shiny with spit. He knows it’s just your spit, knows you wouldn’t leave any of his cum behind. He glances down to his shoe, half covered in your slick. He thinks about making you scoop up your spit from your body and from his floor and swallow it, but he decides to leave that for another day. Instead he says-

“Clean up the mess you made on Daddy’s shoe, and I’ll let you cum.”

The idea that Charlie would let you, maybe even _make_ you cum made your clit throb with need. You were so on edge from the despicable thing he had you do on his shoe, you were certain it wouldn’t take much.

But your hands were still restrained behind you, and you weren’t sure you could get down low enough without falling over. You protest, “Daddy, I-”

“Don’t.”

You snap your mouth shut. His face was stony: he wasn’t budging on this. _And that was Charlie_ , you thought. _Always so neat, dressed so well._

You manoeuvre yourself around to be able to bend down low enough to, you shudder thinking about it, lick your slick off his shoe. Slowly, gently, you lower yourself down, the muscles in your upper body straining. You groan at your discomfort, but Charlie only relishes the sound.

Your lips touch leather, and you squint your eyes shut and lap at Charlie’s shoe, licking up the taste of your arousal.

All Charlie sees is your body stretched out beneath him. His eyes rake over your back, where your shoulder blades are pinched together and your lacy pink bra digs into your skin. He sees your wrapped up hands tied with your own soiled lingerie, the curve of your ass making two perfect globes and the nude spikes of your heels beneath it all. He feels himself stirring again, a little pulse of pleasure running through his stomach.

Using your tongue, you gather up the last remnants of your slick from Charlie’s shoe. You go to raise yourself up, but your shoulders and arms feel numb, and your stomach muscles only lift you some of the way.

Charlie sees you struggling and his brow furrows. For half a second, he thinks maybe, he might’ve pushed you too-

“Daddy,” you break his train of thought. Charlie shakes it off. “Daddy I can’t… get up.” You were so stuck, muscles getting more exhausted by the second, but you hated being weak like this around him. You know he doesn’t appreciate weakness.

Charlie cocks his head to the side and pulls his lips into a stern pout.

“Yes you can, kitten,” he says, and you let out a pained whine onto his shoe. Charlie persists. “Little princess can get herself up, she got herself down there… unless you don’t want to cum, kitten.”

“No no no!” you start, and his chest shakes with a small chuckle.

With all your strength you hoist yourself up, sit yourself back on your calves and huff from the effort. Charlie gives you a big smile. He’s proud of you. You beam at him.

“Come closer,” he says, and you shuffle in close to him once more, between his spread legs. He leans over you again and you feel him mucking about with the ruined underwear tying your wrists together. You hear him huff, disgruntled, and his breath fans out over your forearms. Then, a ripping sound, fabric tearing, and your wrists are free. You almost fall forward into Charlie as relief floods you, blood rushing back to all your muscles.

Charlie sits back up in his chair, makes himself comfortable. He pats one of his thighs and says, “up here.” He wonders if you remember what you said earlier, about being ‘good’ and not making a mess of his trousers.

You go to grab his thighs for support, but stop yourself, and look up at him, questioning.

“You can put your hands on Daddy, kitten.” He smirks at your hesitation, but is still inwardly pleased that you seemed to learn your lesson so well. You grip Charlie’s thighs and lift yourself up to standing, your liquid legs staggering a little in your heels.

Gingerly, you lower yourself down onto one of his thighs. Charlie feels your wet heat soak through the material of his pants instantly. He laughs internally, having had his question answered almost immediately: no, you didn’t remember anything you said about not ruining his pants.

You were grateful Charlie hadn’t asked you to take your heels off. The low platform under the ball of your foot let you somewhat balance yourself on his thigh.

Charlie feels you settle and immediately bounces his leg, bobbing you up and down, making you lose your balance, but more importantly, most importantly, rubbing your aching clit on his thigh.

You gasp and sigh and throw your hands up to his chest for support, resting on his pecs, clutching at his shirt. The movement pushes your breasts together, and Charlie quits his bouncing. You sigh again, at the loss this time.

“Oh stop it, princess. Daddy’s gonna let you cum. Take this off,” he pulls at one of your bra straps and lets it snap back against your skin. Really, he loves all your little sounds, but he knows you love his teasing more.

You do as he says and unclasp the last of your pink lace, shifting the straps down your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor on one side.

Immediately Charlie’s hands grope your breasts, kneading them almost too hard. On accident, a small moan falls from your lips and the corners of Charlie’s mouth pull up in a small smile. “I know you like it rough, kitten, rougher than most,” he ducks his head and flicks his tongue up and down over one of your pert nipples, “it’s one of the things I l-like about you.”

Fuck, he thinks. He almost said something stupid there. Almost fucked this up entirely.

He leans his mouth over to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment as he roughly massages the flesh of your breasts. You let out a strangled moan at the sensations he’s giving you, fighting every urge to buck your hips along his thigh, and Charlie knows it.

He leans away from your chest and looks into your eyes. His tongue licks over his bottom lip and he says, “grind your little clit on Daddy’s thigh and make yourself cum, I’ll let you.”

Your eyes search his, making sure he’s serious, this isn’t a trick, this is what he wants.

At the same time as he bounces his leg under you again he says, “do it, kitten.”

Convinced, you grip one of his biceps with one hand and hold onto his other thigh with your other hand. You start to rock yourself on Charlie’s thigh between your legs, and a hum that’s halfway between pleasured and pained leaves you. You needed to cum, very, very soon.

You start humping Charlie’s thigh in earnest, letting your need overtake you. Your fingers clench at his body and it brings a sick smirk to his face. Charlie brings up his arm, the one you aren’t using for support, and he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

You were so close now, you were sliding over his thigh so quickly you almost lost your balance, the sounds of your shoes skidding on the floor. Your eyes were closed and your head was tilted back as you chased your orgasm, warmth flooding through you.

Charlie was already half hard again, all from watching you lose yourself over one of his legs. He couldn’t wait to see what you’d do while you bounced on his cock. “Any time now, kitten,” he murmurs.

You open your eyes and bring your head down to look at him. Your eyes are glazed over and your lips are bitten pink. “D-Daddy, Daddy…” it’s all you can say as you hurtle towards your release. So so close.

“Say my name, kitten,” he murmurs, both his hands teasing your hard nipples now, “say my name when you cum.”

That’s all it takes. And you scream.

You scream his name as your orgasm blinds you, wracking your body and making you shake in his lap, your fingers grasping for anything of his you can hold. Charlie watches you intently, deeply, his eyes boring into your face, your body, trying to devour every detail. Next time, he’ll make you keep your eyes open, trained on him as you cum.

When your shudders slow and ease, your hands on him relax and you rest your palms on his chest again. You take some deep breaths to slow your breathing.

Charlie’s thigh feels completely soaked. You did a great job of fucking up these trousers for good and all. _Another_ pair of pants ruined. He wants to thank you. He wants to punish you, too. What was it he said before? Oh, yeah. He’d bend you over his knee for this. He absolutely will, later.

But first.

He grasps your chin in his fingers, pulls you in close to his face, only a few inches away from your lips meeting. Your naked body lays almost completely across his clothed one now.

“What did I tell you, kitten, before? I said, don’t ruin Daddy’s pants, and now look.” He releases you and gestures down to his thigh. You scoot back and raise yourself up a little on your heels, seeing a big dark patch on the material of his pants. You drop yourself back down and your eyes flick back up to him, wide and panicked. “Daddy has to train you, doesn’t he? Teach you where you can make a mess.”

You smile at Charlie with your eyes, and he knows you’ve got something cute and sassy to say back to him when you give him that look.

“You can try, Daddy,” you say, and you lean in to plant a kiss on his full pink lips, your back arching, pressing your breasts into his chest.

“I’m not kissing that filthy mouth, kitten, I know where it’s been.” His hands grip your ass and gives both your cheeks a squeeze, then he slaps one of your cheeks. “Go clean up, and then either come back here for dessert, or go to my room and lay face down on my bed, ass in the air.”

You smile at him, then. You lift yourself off him, turn on your heels, and say, “yes, Daddy.”

You don’t see it, but Charlie smiles back at you, too.


End file.
